So I have to go to the Innercept classroom to study on Tuesdays. There is always a daily quote on the board. One Tuesday not too long ago it was something along the lines of: "once your mind has been stretched, it never regains it's original form." I was with one of my mentors, and I pointed to it and proclaimed that this was a very true statement.
Yes, it is a very true statement. My mom one time told me she didn't know why I was still so obsessed with my experiences being delusional. She compared it to the time my grandpa once saw wild turkeys on the side of the road. One time, when my mom's father was still alive, we were driving in the country and there were wild turkeys on the side of the road. Big deal. At least, my sister and I didn't understand why it was such a big deal, and no one explained to me why it was a big deal. But my grandpa kept bringing it up later, like it was such a big event. My sister and I mentioned something about it to my mom, how we kept having to hear about the stupid wild turkeys and who cares about wild turkeys. So anyway, my mom was saying that me being obsessed with my experiences was like my grandpa going on about the wild turkeys.
This is not how it is with me. Sure I was delusional, and my delusions were false (which is implied by the first statement because I said they were delusions). You can come back down from being delusional, you can go undelusional, but there's no returning to the original shape that your brain was in before it thought that you were God and you created the universe and all these big events happened because of you and all this freaking amazing stuff. And when I was delusional, an idea was implanted in my mind that hasn't gone away. I don't remember if I've mentioned this before, sometimes I think I repeat myself and talk in circles. But anyway, the idea was that God foresees a natural disaster and he's in a pickle because any prophet is going to be seen as delusional. I'm not saying I'm a prophet or anything, I'm just saying that this is an idea that never goes away. And at night, I continue to be haunted by those dreams. This is where I leave some of you in suspense because I didn't say what dreams, but certain people will know what I'm talking about.
Secretly (not anymore) I wonder what's going to happen. Because I was never convinced it was just a mental illness, and the spirits are urging me to work on getting my book published. Do other authors experience this? But, there are certain things you've got to do. Like take the meds. Take prns when you feel funny and learn from the past. I entertain strange ideas sometimes but I always return to believing just mostly (MOSTLY!) what I know for a fact to be true. Mostly...
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
My Magazine Article
So here's how my Thanksgiving vacation goes. Beforehand I vow that I will work on getting my magazine article published while I'm home. Once home, I get caught up in playing the Sims. I tell myself that I will begin work on it on Friday. On Thursday evening my hard drive, which has the article and everything on it, dies.
My data isn't lost, I have a back up drive, and I backed up my hard drive a couple days before I left to go home. My mentor acted like backing up was unnecessary. She was wrong.
Some people might have gotten mad in my situation, but I didn't. I thought, maybe this is a sign. A sign that I shouldn't be trying to get it published just yet.
See, I have a plan. The first step is to get published in a major magazine. It has to be a major magazine, though if that doesn't work I will settle for a smaller magazine. But the bigger the magazine the better. I've read that if you get something published in a major magazine it's not uncommon for literary agents to approach you. And that is the goal. Even if they don't, I could mention in my query letter that I was published in a big magazine.
It seems like a long shot. But let me tell you something, I've read the two-minute memoir section of Psychology Today (the section and magazine I have my eye on). My article is better than any I have seen in that section, in my opinion. I don't know how well I'm able to judge my own writing, but I feel that my article is better written than pretty much all of my blogs and the majority of my book. And people tell me that that stuff is well written.
Now, on my blog I've made it clear that I think there's more to my condition than a mental illness. But the article is written as though it were just a mental illness, though I do mention I was never convinced that it was just that and that's what leaves the door open for more delusional thinking. What I mean is, I say that but I don't try to argue that it is more than a mental illness, I actually assume that the reader will assume that that belief is part of my illness. I describe a day where I'm a bit caffeinated, and I'm walking outside and for a few moments I get wrapped up in an episode of delusional thinking, where I briefly entertain the idea that I'm the second coming. The article is meant to be both informative about the way delusional people think and a bit humorous.
I've spent time on this one writing message board posting sample query letters in such, and I've learned that people seem interested in the Jesus delusion. It's a common delusion, but not a lot is written from the perspective of someone who actually had the delusion.
But anyway, the hard drive incident had made me decide to wait until the end of the holiday season to try and get published. My dad's going to have to pay for a membership to Writer's Market (it's relatively inexpensive), which should provide me with guidelines and information for how to submit to magazines and what magazines to submit to.
My data isn't lost, I have a back up drive, and I backed up my hard drive a couple days before I left to go home. My mentor acted like backing up was unnecessary. She was wrong.
Some people might have gotten mad in my situation, but I didn't. I thought, maybe this is a sign. A sign that I shouldn't be trying to get it published just yet.
See, I have a plan. The first step is to get published in a major magazine. It has to be a major magazine, though if that doesn't work I will settle for a smaller magazine. But the bigger the magazine the better. I've read that if you get something published in a major magazine it's not uncommon for literary agents to approach you. And that is the goal. Even if they don't, I could mention in my query letter that I was published in a big magazine.
It seems like a long shot. But let me tell you something, I've read the two-minute memoir section of Psychology Today (the section and magazine I have my eye on). My article is better than any I have seen in that section, in my opinion. I don't know how well I'm able to judge my own writing, but I feel that my article is better written than pretty much all of my blogs and the majority of my book. And people tell me that that stuff is well written.
Now, on my blog I've made it clear that I think there's more to my condition than a mental illness. But the article is written as though it were just a mental illness, though I do mention I was never convinced that it was just that and that's what leaves the door open for more delusional thinking. What I mean is, I say that but I don't try to argue that it is more than a mental illness, I actually assume that the reader will assume that that belief is part of my illness. I describe a day where I'm a bit caffeinated, and I'm walking outside and for a few moments I get wrapped up in an episode of delusional thinking, where I briefly entertain the idea that I'm the second coming. The article is meant to be both informative about the way delusional people think and a bit humorous.
I've spent time on this one writing message board posting sample query letters in such, and I've learned that people seem interested in the Jesus delusion. It's a common delusion, but not a lot is written from the perspective of someone who actually had the delusion.
But anyway, the hard drive incident had made me decide to wait until the end of the holiday season to try and get published. My dad's going to have to pay for a membership to Writer's Market (it's relatively inexpensive), which should provide me with guidelines and information for how to submit to magazines and what magazines to submit to.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Potential Anger
I hate it when people act like the way you feel is mental, not chemical. My experiences have lead me to conclude time and time again that when the chemicals aren't in my favor I am incapable of thinking good thoughts or thinking positively. Sure, I can make myself think something positive, but that thought is automatically replaced by a negative thought. The chemicals in your brain color your world and your perception of the world. When I used to cycle (which I don't anymore), I would go from feeling like I was super awesome to feeling like I was absolutely worthless and pathetic and I needed to die, and then back again. It would change super fast too.
I am aware that this last paragraph makes me sound like I have a major mental illness. I have been diagnosed with a major mental illness. However, I am unconvinced. I am on these meds, these antipsychotics, and a withdrawal symptom of the meds is cycling. I used to cycle when I drank too much caffeine, which would interfere with my meds, making me go into withdrawal and cycle.
Someone gave me a pill of ecstasy once, I took it and waited and it had no effect whatsoever. I thought it must have been fake, until someone told me that ecstasy has no effect on certain people who are bipolar because they experience intense highs naturally.
Because of this, I admit it is entirely possible that I have a mental illness. But I think there is something else there too. I don't always acknowledge the existence of this other thing, I sometimes say things which would lead people to believe that I have dismissed my belief in the existence of this other thing. But I haven't. If feelings alone were proof then the existence of this other thing would not be a theory but a solid fact. Feelings aren't proof, but I still believe in the evidence.
If I didn't believe in this other thing, I would be embarrassed. But the existence of this other thing means that I shouldn't be embarrassed. I'm not embarrassed. I don't blame myself for what happened but I don't blame anyone else either. When it comes to my mental illness and the other thing, I did mostly the right thing, every step of the way. The only thing I perhaps did wrong was say things I shouldn't have said.
And inside of me, I have a lot of potential anger. Potential anger is kind of like potential energy. Right now there is no one who is really the target of this anger. But what I mean is, this is a volatile subject. And if someone were to cross the line, and the line is very easy to cross, they would be the target of a very large quantity of anger.
I am aware that this last paragraph makes me sound like I have a major mental illness. I have been diagnosed with a major mental illness. However, I am unconvinced. I am on these meds, these antipsychotics, and a withdrawal symptom of the meds is cycling. I used to cycle when I drank too much caffeine, which would interfere with my meds, making me go into withdrawal and cycle.
Someone gave me a pill of ecstasy once, I took it and waited and it had no effect whatsoever. I thought it must have been fake, until someone told me that ecstasy has no effect on certain people who are bipolar because they experience intense highs naturally.
Because of this, I admit it is entirely possible that I have a mental illness. But I think there is something else there too. I don't always acknowledge the existence of this other thing, I sometimes say things which would lead people to believe that I have dismissed my belief in the existence of this other thing. But I haven't. If feelings alone were proof then the existence of this other thing would not be a theory but a solid fact. Feelings aren't proof, but I still believe in the evidence.
If I didn't believe in this other thing, I would be embarrassed. But the existence of this other thing means that I shouldn't be embarrassed. I'm not embarrassed. I don't blame myself for what happened but I don't blame anyone else either. When it comes to my mental illness and the other thing, I did mostly the right thing, every step of the way. The only thing I perhaps did wrong was say things I shouldn't have said.
And inside of me, I have a lot of potential anger. Potential anger is kind of like potential energy. Right now there is no one who is really the target of this anger. But what I mean is, this is a volatile subject. And if someone were to cross the line, and the line is very easy to cross, they would be the target of a very large quantity of anger.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Laughing With God
I would like to take a moment to discuss why the title of my book is Laughing With God. In order to do so, I may have to discuss the content of the book, which I don't normally do on my blog because when it comes out I want the content to be fresh to someone who might perhaps read my blog. But sometimes I make exceptions.
Laughing With God is the title of my book because it captures what was the best part of being delusional, which was when I felt like I was God and I was laughing. Actually, it's a bit misleading because it makes it sound like you and God are two separate things, when the experience I'm talking about is when I am God and I am laughing. But "Laughing As God" didn't sound right.
When I was experiencing one of my "episodes," sometimes I wouldn't feel like myself. Sometimes, I felt like I was someone else. Other times, I felt like I was no one. But the best of times was when I felt like I was God, and I was laughing. Everytime I felt like I was God I was laughing. God is a jolly fellow, sort of like Santa Claus.
I would laugh at something my people did. I was God, and my people, they were so funny. They'd do so many hilarious things. But I'm not talking about those things, that's top secret book information.
It would be funny because they didn't get it. I'd kind of like watching your child, and laughing at what your child does and how your child thinks because their understanding and comprehension is inferior to your own. It reminds me of my dad telling me about cargo cults. According to my dad, less advanced civilizations of people came in contact with more advanced modern day civilizations with airplanes and all sorts of cool technology. The less advanced civilizations wondered why our gods had given us that stuff and not them. They figured it was because we built cool (air traffic control) towers to worship the gods. So the primitive societies built some towers imitating us hoping that the gods would reward them with the same sorts of cool things they had rewarded us with. This is something that we can all laugh at that would also make God laugh, if in fact the god from my experiences were real. And if the god from my experiences were real, that would mean He was me.
What I'm trying to say is, this god isn't mean, but he laughs at humans because they are stupid.
Laughing With God is the title of my book because it captures what was the best part of being delusional, which was when I felt like I was God and I was laughing. Actually, it's a bit misleading because it makes it sound like you and God are two separate things, when the experience I'm talking about is when I am God and I am laughing. But "Laughing As God" didn't sound right.
When I was experiencing one of my "episodes," sometimes I wouldn't feel like myself. Sometimes, I felt like I was someone else. Other times, I felt like I was no one. But the best of times was when I felt like I was God, and I was laughing. Everytime I felt like I was God I was laughing. God is a jolly fellow, sort of like Santa Claus.
I would laugh at something my people did. I was God, and my people, they were so funny. They'd do so many hilarious things. But I'm not talking about those things, that's top secret book information.
It would be funny because they didn't get it. I'd kind of like watching your child, and laughing at what your child does and how your child thinks because their understanding and comprehension is inferior to your own. It reminds me of my dad telling me about cargo cults. According to my dad, less advanced civilizations of people came in contact with more advanced modern day civilizations with airplanes and all sorts of cool technology. The less advanced civilizations wondered why our gods had given us that stuff and not them. They figured it was because we built cool (air traffic control) towers to worship the gods. So the primitive societies built some towers imitating us hoping that the gods would reward them with the same sorts of cool things they had rewarded us with. This is something that we can all laugh at that would also make God laugh, if in fact the god from my experiences were real. And if the god from my experiences were real, that would mean He was me.
What I'm trying to say is, this god isn't mean, but he laughs at humans because they are stupid.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Anxiety: It's a Dilly of a Pickle
I did my monologue for theatre the other day. While I'm sure I got a good grade, I feel like I failed. I spent time beforehand practicing, making faces at certain parts, and making specific descriptive motions. I had it down, man. But when I got up there in front of the class, anxiety took over. Sure, I remembered all my lines (thus why I probably got a good grade) and did most of the motions I practiced, but I feel my anxiety held me back and rendered my performance unconvincing.
They say the only way to get over your fears is to face them. The thing about this is, it only works if you face them and then have a positive or at least neutral experience. So if you're afraid to drive, then one day you take out the car and crash it and kill seven people, that's not going to help your fear of driving any, it only makes it worse. Trust me, I beat myself up over what I deemed was a bad performance, because beating myself up is what I do. I can't help it. I do it with a lot of things, where I think about them over and over again and cringe and say spirits (my calming word).
So there are two problems here, two forms of anxiety, neither of which respond to logic. My anxiety doesn't do me any good, at least none that I can see. It only causes me problems. Yet, I can't just turn it off because things don't work that way. The first form of anxiety is my fear of people. The second form is the beating up of myself. I could have focused on the positives, like how I remembered all my lines and made good gestures. But I focus on the negatives.
So this leaves me in a dilly of a pickle. I really don't know what the solution is. Facing my fears reinforces them, doing nothing does nothing. And drugs won't even work! Because the drugs that kill or ease anxiety lead to drowsiness and slurred speech, two things that will also kill a performance.
I could give up acting, that wouldn't be a problem, except that I know that my anxiety problem will do more than just hinder an acting career. If I were to become famous for my book, and someone invited me on a television show, I would be too nervous to do a decent interview, especially if it was filmed in front of an audience. Any social encounter in which I have a vested interest in making a good impression could be destroyed by my anxiety.
So that's why I can't give up. Therefore, I will take acting again next semester.
They say the only way to get over your fears is to face them. The thing about this is, it only works if you face them and then have a positive or at least neutral experience. So if you're afraid to drive, then one day you take out the car and crash it and kill seven people, that's not going to help your fear of driving any, it only makes it worse. Trust me, I beat myself up over what I deemed was a bad performance, because beating myself up is what I do. I can't help it. I do it with a lot of things, where I think about them over and over again and cringe and say spirits (my calming word).
So there are two problems here, two forms of anxiety, neither of which respond to logic. My anxiety doesn't do me any good, at least none that I can see. It only causes me problems. Yet, I can't just turn it off because things don't work that way. The first form of anxiety is my fear of people. The second form is the beating up of myself. I could have focused on the positives, like how I remembered all my lines and made good gestures. But I focus on the negatives.
So this leaves me in a dilly of a pickle. I really don't know what the solution is. Facing my fears reinforces them, doing nothing does nothing. And drugs won't even work! Because the drugs that kill or ease anxiety lead to drowsiness and slurred speech, two things that will also kill a performance.
I could give up acting, that wouldn't be a problem, except that I know that my anxiety problem will do more than just hinder an acting career. If I were to become famous for my book, and someone invited me on a television show, I would be too nervous to do a decent interview, especially if it was filmed in front of an audience. Any social encounter in which I have a vested interest in making a good impression could be destroyed by my anxiety.
So that's why I can't give up. Therefore, I will take acting again next semester.
Monday, November 7, 2011
God and Atheists
It seems that my philosophical beliefs don't fit with the beliefs of any large group of people.
On the one hand, religious people can be annoying (especially if they're conservative values voters). It's mostly Christians, but there are some annoying Jewish people too. I remember back when I was delusional and I was going to Portland State University, occasionally there would be a show outside. It was usually Christians but one time it was a wacko Jewish guy. So Jewish people aren't exempt. But the Christian people were the funniest. There was a group of them once, and they brought along a guitar and started singing songs. Songs like, "It's Not Okay to be Gay," "It's a Baby, Not a Blob," "Abstinence," and a song against Mormons. I call these kind of people "IJD's." It stands for Insane Jesus Dudes. Come to think of it, I've never once seen a female IJD. They are always dudes. They're the guys who stand around with their sandwich boards, which tell you to repent and accept Jesus as your savior and blah blah blah. They are entertaining.
But these are the extreme examples. I don't agree with Christianity at all, but I think that atheists annoy me more than Christians. Of course, it varies from person to person. There are some atheists who think that any person if they are intelligent and think critically will come to the conclusion that God does not exist. I am intelligent, and I think critically, and I came to the conclusion that God doesn't necessarily exist, but probably does.
Sure, there could be life without God. Maybe humans don't have souls that transcend death (though I think I have proof that they do, but I don't want to get into that). The idea that God does not exist is fathomable to me. But I do believe in God. It's not because I'm so simple minded that the only option I can imagine is that God waved his magic wand and then life forms appeared. But I see great meaning in my own life, and in life in general. I think that life came about intentionally.
I also know people, who believe in the same things I do, but are turned off by the word "God" because it makes them think of religion. So they say they don't believe in God.
But in conclusion, I think the most important thing is to be open-minded to new ideas, and never remain stuck in one way of thinking.
On the one hand, religious people can be annoying (especially if they're conservative values voters). It's mostly Christians, but there are some annoying Jewish people too. I remember back when I was delusional and I was going to Portland State University, occasionally there would be a show outside. It was usually Christians but one time it was a wacko Jewish guy. So Jewish people aren't exempt. But the Christian people were the funniest. There was a group of them once, and they brought along a guitar and started singing songs. Songs like, "It's Not Okay to be Gay," "It's a Baby, Not a Blob," "Abstinence," and a song against Mormons. I call these kind of people "IJD's." It stands for Insane Jesus Dudes. Come to think of it, I've never once seen a female IJD. They are always dudes. They're the guys who stand around with their sandwich boards, which tell you to repent and accept Jesus as your savior and blah blah blah. They are entertaining.
But these are the extreme examples. I don't agree with Christianity at all, but I think that atheists annoy me more than Christians. Of course, it varies from person to person. There are some atheists who think that any person if they are intelligent and think critically will come to the conclusion that God does not exist. I am intelligent, and I think critically, and I came to the conclusion that God doesn't necessarily exist, but probably does.
Sure, there could be life without God. Maybe humans don't have souls that transcend death (though I think I have proof that they do, but I don't want to get into that). The idea that God does not exist is fathomable to me. But I do believe in God. It's not because I'm so simple minded that the only option I can imagine is that God waved his magic wand and then life forms appeared. But I see great meaning in my own life, and in life in general. I think that life came about intentionally.
I also know people, who believe in the same things I do, but are turned off by the word "God" because it makes them think of religion. So they say they don't believe in God.
But in conclusion, I think the most important thing is to be open-minded to new ideas, and never remain stuck in one way of thinking.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Shyness
So I've been thinking about how I diagnosed myself with selective mutism. I told my therapist today about it, she didn't argue but she said something like, "oh, well most people get anxious in social settings." But she wouldn't really know if I had the disorder or not. She didn't know me when I was younger.
There's something about knowing I have this disorder that makes me feel better. When I think about it, I see reasons why it could make me feel better or it could make me feel worse. The reason why it might make me feel worse is because it means I'm not unique in being so quiet, which sounds like a good thing, but let me explain. I remember back in 2006, I was at the Amen clinic where they were scanning my brain. They also do an interview to help with the diagnosis. It took a great deal of prodding because I had learned from past mistakes not to talk to doctors about certain things, but the interviewer got me to explain a little bit of my delusions, though not in great detail (come to think of it, I've never really explained them to anyone in great detail). The interviewer said there were a few grandiose things, so he asked me the question he asks everyone, which was: "Why you?" Why would this happen to you? Why are you so special? I knew why me, but I didn't answer this question. Because I'm the girl who doesn't talk. And yes, these were delusions, but as I've said before I've considered the circumstances carefully and I think there was something more than just a chemical imbalance, and so what I'm trying to say is that being unique supports my theory. Which is why I might not be happy about not being unique, but that isn't the case. Because being exceptionally quiet is by far not the only thing that makes me unique!
I don't really feel like ranting and raving about the reasons why there are spirits. Even if I did, I would just dance around the issue because if I were to actually give reasons I would be revealing book secrets. Back to the issue at hand: selective mutism. Now that I have a name to describe what I have, I see it as something more external to me and not a defect of my soul. I also realize that it can come with virtues, which I explained in a previous post.
This is weird and I can't stop thinking about it. I wonder if this has anything to do with why I've been feeling seriously funny lately. I think there's more to it than that, though. If I believed in astrology, I might say that the stars have shifted and they are in my favor right now. But I don't believe in astrology.
There's something about knowing I have this disorder that makes me feel better. When I think about it, I see reasons why it could make me feel better or it could make me feel worse. The reason why it might make me feel worse is because it means I'm not unique in being so quiet, which sounds like a good thing, but let me explain. I remember back in 2006, I was at the Amen clinic where they were scanning my brain. They also do an interview to help with the diagnosis. It took a great deal of prodding because I had learned from past mistakes not to talk to doctors about certain things, but the interviewer got me to explain a little bit of my delusions, though not in great detail (come to think of it, I've never really explained them to anyone in great detail). The interviewer said there were a few grandiose things, so he asked me the question he asks everyone, which was: "Why you?" Why would this happen to you? Why are you so special? I knew why me, but I didn't answer this question. Because I'm the girl who doesn't talk. And yes, these were delusions, but as I've said before I've considered the circumstances carefully and I think there was something more than just a chemical imbalance, and so what I'm trying to say is that being unique supports my theory. Which is why I might not be happy about not being unique, but that isn't the case. Because being exceptionally quiet is by far not the only thing that makes me unique!
I don't really feel like ranting and raving about the reasons why there are spirits. Even if I did, I would just dance around the issue because if I were to actually give reasons I would be revealing book secrets. Back to the issue at hand: selective mutism. Now that I have a name to describe what I have, I see it as something more external to me and not a defect of my soul. I also realize that it can come with virtues, which I explained in a previous post.
This is weird and I can't stop thinking about it. I wonder if this has anything to do with why I've been feeling seriously funny lately. I think there's more to it than that, though. If I believed in astrology, I might say that the stars have shifted and they are in my favor right now. But I don't believe in astrology.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Self Diagnoses
So I've been watching my new favorite show The Big Bang Theory. Apparently there's a character on the show who has selective mutism. So I looked it up on wikipedia and I realize that's what I have. I determined this, keeping in mind that I am a hypochondriac. I even have the positive symptoms associated with it, like high intelligence, sensitivity to other's feelings, and a strong sense of right and wrong. Of course most people would probably say that they have these traits, but I feel that I know myself and my strengths and weaknesses.
Contrary to what it's like for a lot of people though it has gotten better over time. I got a little better when I entered college and I discovered that I could make conversation with people, though I still used alcohol to cope. It's gotten even better in the past 2 or 3 years. It's funny, because on the wikipedia article it says that some people talk to peers but not adults. It doesn't mention people who are the opposite. Of course, I'm an adult now, but I'm still a young adult. Here at Innercept, I see fellow residents as peers and the staff are like the adults (even though technically we are all adults). Talking to staff is like the easiest thing in the world. Seriously, I can go up to a new staff I've never talked to before and talk to them about anything and I'm not anxious at all. Talking to peers is different, I can talk to them too but I have to warm up to them, which can be a slow process. It's weird, because I can be shy as fuck but I think I'm an outgoing person at heart. I was outgoing when I was younger. It makes me wonder what the fuck happened.
But anyway, I think about this in the context of my more recent issues, or whatever the hell it was that happened back in spring break of 2006. Are these issues connected? Well, the fact that I didn't talk in school was part of my delusions, I mean it was significant in the context of my delusions. It doesn't mention there being a link between selective mutism and delusions, though I think it says something about schizophrenia but I don't have that. And as I write this, I am distracted by a sudden thought. Maybe I could talk about being a selectively mute person in my query letter. I'm not sure if this makes me more interesting or more boring.
Back to my delusions. They are the kind of thing I attribute to chemical imbalances when I forget the facts and details. Whenever I start really thinking about all the things that happened, I'm like WTF? There's got to be something seriously funny going on here. Basically, spirits.
But anyway, sometimes still what happens is someone does something that bothers me. At least, this happened once. And I got over it, and I forgave the person in my mind. But I became very conscious of what I said around the person, and when that happens it means I don't talk very much.
Contrary to what it's like for a lot of people though it has gotten better over time. I got a little better when I entered college and I discovered that I could make conversation with people, though I still used alcohol to cope. It's gotten even better in the past 2 or 3 years. It's funny, because on the wikipedia article it says that some people talk to peers but not adults. It doesn't mention people who are the opposite. Of course, I'm an adult now, but I'm still a young adult. Here at Innercept, I see fellow residents as peers and the staff are like the adults (even though technically we are all adults). Talking to staff is like the easiest thing in the world. Seriously, I can go up to a new staff I've never talked to before and talk to them about anything and I'm not anxious at all. Talking to peers is different, I can talk to them too but I have to warm up to them, which can be a slow process. It's weird, because I can be shy as fuck but I think I'm an outgoing person at heart. I was outgoing when I was younger. It makes me wonder what the fuck happened.
But anyway, I think about this in the context of my more recent issues, or whatever the hell it was that happened back in spring break of 2006. Are these issues connected? Well, the fact that I didn't talk in school was part of my delusions, I mean it was significant in the context of my delusions. It doesn't mention there being a link between selective mutism and delusions, though I think it says something about schizophrenia but I don't have that. And as I write this, I am distracted by a sudden thought. Maybe I could talk about being a selectively mute person in my query letter. I'm not sure if this makes me more interesting or more boring.
Back to my delusions. They are the kind of thing I attribute to chemical imbalances when I forget the facts and details. Whenever I start really thinking about all the things that happened, I'm like WTF? There's got to be something seriously funny going on here. Basically, spirits.
But anyway, sometimes still what happens is someone does something that bothers me. At least, this happened once. And I got over it, and I forgave the person in my mind. But I became very conscious of what I said around the person, and when that happens it means I don't talk very much.
Semi-Lucid Dreams and Acting
I woke up around 3 am last night feeling wide awake, so I did what I usually do in this situation, which was switch to the other bed in my room. It worked, I fell back asleep. The downside of this is tactic is that in the morning I have twice as many beds to make.
I had this dream, which was lucid or semi-lucid (I'm not sure if dreams can be considered semi-lucid). At the beginning I was shown a picture of this guy named Charlie, who was going to be my future lover. He had long, dark, very curly hair that was big and went everywhere. Not the kind of guy I'd usually be into, but I didn't think he was that unattractive. Then I was on a mission to find him. Along the way, I met this guy who asked me what kind of drug I don't smoke. I said I didn't smoke crack. So he handed me a cocaine cigarette, I don't think people smoke cocaine in rolled-up cigarette form in real life but they did in my dream. I smoked it and it made me feel interesting, though probably not how it would in real life. In real life I've done cocaine a few times but never when I wasn't under the influence of alcohol. I like it how when you do drugs in dreams they make you feel different. For the rest of the dream I kept doing things and having to run away, except something about it was different than my other running away dreams. I think other running dreams stem from the desire to run away and do destructive things. But in this dream, I was the one who was right. Which might sound wrong considering I was smoking a cocaine cigarette, but in this dream that wasn't considered a bad thing, it was a socially accepted drug like nicotine or even caffeine.
Charlie was the name of a character in the play I saw last weekend. The actor who played him did a ridiculously good job I thought and he is also in my acting class. He did a monologue in front of the class on Monday, and he did a ridiculously good job then too.
Which makes me think of my own acting. I don't know how good I am or if I'm even good at all, I really wonder about this. But I feel the need not to fail at acting. I don't mean not fail the class, I'm sure even someone who completely sucked at acting could get a passing grade in the class if they made an effort. I'm not going to make a career out of acting, but I'd like it to be something I'm reasonably good at. I have to do my own monologue next Monday.
I remember the reason I decided to do acting in the first place. Part of the reason was because it's something I'm interested in, but it was also because I thought I could play myself if my book were made into a movie, because I feel it will be turned into a movie. The advantage I have is that I know how I act and carry myself, and I experienced the events of the book myself. The disadvantage is that I'd have to act convincingly drunk and cry on command.
I had this dream, which was lucid or semi-lucid (I'm not sure if dreams can be considered semi-lucid). At the beginning I was shown a picture of this guy named Charlie, who was going to be my future lover. He had long, dark, very curly hair that was big and went everywhere. Not the kind of guy I'd usually be into, but I didn't think he was that unattractive. Then I was on a mission to find him. Along the way, I met this guy who asked me what kind of drug I don't smoke. I said I didn't smoke crack. So he handed me a cocaine cigarette, I don't think people smoke cocaine in rolled-up cigarette form in real life but they did in my dream. I smoked it and it made me feel interesting, though probably not how it would in real life. In real life I've done cocaine a few times but never when I wasn't under the influence of alcohol. I like it how when you do drugs in dreams they make you feel different. For the rest of the dream I kept doing things and having to run away, except something about it was different than my other running away dreams. I think other running dreams stem from the desire to run away and do destructive things. But in this dream, I was the one who was right. Which might sound wrong considering I was smoking a cocaine cigarette, but in this dream that wasn't considered a bad thing, it was a socially accepted drug like nicotine or even caffeine.
Charlie was the name of a character in the play I saw last weekend. The actor who played him did a ridiculously good job I thought and he is also in my acting class. He did a monologue in front of the class on Monday, and he did a ridiculously good job then too.
Which makes me think of my own acting. I don't know how good I am or if I'm even good at all, I really wonder about this. But I feel the need not to fail at acting. I don't mean not fail the class, I'm sure even someone who completely sucked at acting could get a passing grade in the class if they made an effort. I'm not going to make a career out of acting, but I'd like it to be something I'm reasonably good at. I have to do my own monologue next Monday.
I remember the reason I decided to do acting in the first place. Part of the reason was because it's something I'm interested in, but it was also because I thought I could play myself if my book were made into a movie, because I feel it will be turned into a movie. The advantage I have is that I know how I act and carry myself, and I experienced the events of the book myself. The disadvantage is that I'd have to act convincingly drunk and cry on command.
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